


Come Back to Me

by Ameliaponds



Series: Peter Parker x Reader [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameliaponds/pseuds/Ameliaponds
Summary: (Requested) “Can you write a Peter Parker x reader, where the reader is Tony Starks daughter and she has really bad anxiety, so whenever she is having an anxiety attack Tony helps her. But Tony was out and she didn’t want to pester him?”





	Come Back to Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I myself do suffer from anxiety, so I tried to base the readers experience off my own somewhat, though I do understand mental illness is different for everyone so it might not feel accurate to others who suffer from it as well! This was kinda hard for me to write just for some personal reasons of my own anxiety and how it affected me after the deaths of people I loved, so I really hope you enjoy it!

Looking back, you had known it was a bad idea to leave your home in the first place. You thought fresh air would help, a brisk walk would help to keep your mind busy from how tight your chest had been feeling all day.

Your father was on a mission, off helping save the world as Iron Man with his fellow avengers. Usually, you were able to handle him being away pretty well. As well as you thought should be expected, that is. You knew there was always a risk he wouldn’t come home when he left, and it had gotten easier to deal with as you grew up.

It was just that you were never able to shake the fear. More than that, though, you definitely were never able to forget the way it felt when you thought he was dead, back before he became Iron Man. He was presumed to be dead when he got captured back in 2008, and believing your only parent had been killed filled you with an emptiness you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

Every time your father left the house, regardless of the reason, there was always a voice in your head screaming that you would never see him again. When he would go on missions, it would be even worse.

He always told as much as he could about where he would be going and why, and always made sure to give you a day to anticipate his return. He more often than not was able to stick to the schedule, and get back to you by the promised date.

This time he didn’t.

He was supposed to be home two days ago, and even though logically you knew it could be anything, that something could just have required more time than expected. For all you knew, he was on his way home at the moment. You knew it logically.

Anxiety didn’t have much regard for logic, though.

You wished more than anything you could just be normal. You hated how whatever was wrong with your brain made you think the way you did. You hated how much you could overthink things, feeling like you were driving yourself insane over what felt like the stupidest of things.

You wished you could will your anxiety to accept logical reasoning, instead of sending you into a frenzy of frantic thoughts that people you loved secretly didn’t like you, or that people thought you were annoying because of the way you laughed.

Or that your dad was dead and never coming back, and you wouldn’t get one more chance to have one more movie night with him.

When you noticed yourself starting to freak out slightly, you sat down on a bench and tried to take deep breaths.

He’s already dead. You’re not going to see him again. You will never hear him tell you he loves you again. You will never be able to climb into his bed after having a nightmare in the middle of the night again. You will never be able to enjoy having a father again. Hes dead.

Your mind was racing and you could feel your heart sinking horribly as it did. Usually, when you started to feel like this you would turn to your dad for help. He was no stranger to anxiety, and always seemed to know what to say to calm you down, but he wasn’t around right now.

You pulled out your phone to try and call him, but it went immediately to voicemail. Then it did again. And again. After about 7 calls, you gave up.

You knew it, you just knew it. He was dead. You were officially an orphan. The tightness in your chest began to grow unbearable, making you feel like you weren’t able to breathe properly. 

You probably looked insane, sitting on a wooden bench hugging your knees as you cried, but you didn’t know what else to do. How could you return home knowing that your father never would? You didn’t think you’d be able to step foot on the property ever again.

So you stayed, and you cried with your head in your knees. Terrible thoughts about how he died, what could have been done to prevent it, if he was alone when it happened, and the list went on.

You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there before you felt a tap on your shoulder as a voice spoke out; “Are you alright, miss?”

You immediately shrieked, jumping off the bench and scrambling to get away from whoever had touched you. New York wasn’t a safe place at night, and your father had ensured you had some self defense training. You just weren’t really sure you had it in you to put what you had learned to good use if you needed to right now, with your mind in such a frenzy.

At the sight of a red suit, however, you calmed momentarily as you stared at Peter Parker in his alter ego getup. You met him through your dad and became fast friends afterward. You two didn’t talk or hang out much, but when you did you always had a good time. 

“Pet- er, Spider-Man?” you fumbled over your words, quickly looking around to make sure no one was near by to hear your almost-slip of his name.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you? Do you need help?”

At his questions, your momentary calm slipped away and you felt the tears start to stream down your face once again. You couldn’t help it when you threw yourself into his arms, speaking frantically as you told him you were certain your dad had died. Your breathing was erratic from the crying and you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand the words spilling from your mouth in what seemed to be a jumbled mess.

He pulled you to sit with him on the bench you were previously crying on, this time holding you close to him as you cried, stroking your hair to try and calm you down.

“Y/N, look at me, I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to come back to me, and get out of your head, and to do that I need you to do this. Breathe with me. In for four seconds, then out for four seconds, okay? Come back to me.” He kept his hands on your shoulders, and you thought he was looking into your eyes but you couldn’t tell because his face remained covered. You held your gaze on the whites of his mask and did as he instructed.

You felt yourself calming slightly, the erratic racing of your heart in your chest fading a bit, though still present enough to make you uncomfortable. Once you got your breathing under control, he spoke.

“Now, tell me what’s wrong and let me help, okay? It’s what i’m here for.”

Your eyes cast downward, and you began to play with your fingers. It was one thing to talk to your dad about your anxiety, to freak out in front of him and have him talk you through it. You didn’t know how you felt about talking to Peter about it, but at this moment he seemed to be your only option, so you took it.

“My dad he… well he went on a mission and he was supposed to be back two days ago and I just… I don’t know.” you trailed off, not knowing how to word your feelings because you felt a little silly about it all. You knew it was just your anxiety driving you to act the way you had, and the last thing you wanted was for Peter to think you were as crazy as you could feel you were.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. You can tell me, I wont judge you. I’ll forget this conversation even happened after it’s done, if that’s what you want.”

You found yourself smiling slightly despite your panic at his kind words. He really was one of the nicest and most caring people you had ever met.

“I just… it’s just that.. He’s dead, I know he is. He’s dead and he’s never going to come back and now i’m alone.”

“He’s not dead, Y/N. I think you’re just… well I think you’re having an anxiety attack. At least, it seems that way to me since i’ve.. W-well since i’ve had them before.”

You shook your head at this, looking away from him and staring straight down at the ground, “No, this isn’t that, I just know it happened. He’s dead. He’s gone.”

“Why don’t we check, okay? Have you tried to call him?”

“Seven times. They all went straight to voicemail.”

“Okay, well i’m sure his phone just died. Give me a second, okay? I’ll show you that he’s fine.”

You furrowed your brows at this, watching while he spoke to the AI in his suit, asking if she could link with ‘Mr. Starks suit lady” and bring up a projection of his heartbeat. After a couple seconds, a hologram came out of Peters wrist, showing the steady rate of your fathers heart beating.

You stared at the projection for a while, allowing it to relax you and feeling the heaviness in your chest lift slowly. Eventually, it was almost all gone, and you smiled a little, telling him he could take the image away.

“Oh god. God, thank you so much, i’m so sorry to just freak out on you like that.” you let out an uncomfortable laugh, trying to cover up how uncomfortable you were at the fact that Peter had see you cry because you couldn’t control your dumb brain.

“No, really, it’s nothing! Like I said, i’ve been there. Sometimes when my Aunt leaves the house i’ll get so nervous the same thing that happened to my uncle will happen to her I follow her all over town just so I don’t go insane.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder in solidarity. It was nice to know someone else understood the way you felt. After a few moments of stroking his shoulder and comfortable silence, you stood, announcing that you were going to head home and get some sleep.

Peter being Peter, however, wouldn’t let you make the journey home alone, so you found yourself on his back as he swung from building to building in order to drop you off at home.

You assumed he was just going to drop you off at your front door, but he insisted on taking you all the way to your room. When you found yourself in front of it, he pulled his mask off. You looked into his brown eyes for a moment, before speaking.

“Thank you again for all that.”

“It’s no problem, don’t even think about it.”

“No, really, thank you for being there for me. It means alot. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that, though, god i’m so embarrassed.”

You pulled him in for a hug, arms around his shoulders while his wrapped around your waist, squeezing you to him tightly. You felt him shake his head before he told you that it was completely fine.

“Seriously, don’t even think about it. Like.. Like I said, i’ve had my fair share of anxiety attacks before, it really isn’t an issue. It’s what i’m here for.”

He spoke softly, and the two of you slightly pulled away from one another, though you kept your hands loosely around his neck, and his on your waist.

Something in the air seemed to have changed as the two of you looked into one another’s eyes, and you couldn’t help but take a glimpse at his lips, suddenly longing to feel them on yours.

You saw his face turning slightly pink as you both started to lean into one another, your heartbeat picking up again for the night, though this time for a different reason.

You were about to kiss Peter Parker.

His forehead was on yours and he was staring at your lips intently, his voice coming out as a whisper; “Is this okay?”

You smiled at his sweetness, assuring him it was more than okay, before pulling his lips towards yours for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: amxliapond.tumblr.com


End file.
